Calm Before the Storm
by Kendoka Girl
Summary: Kaidan and Shepard get some time alone finally. Set after the Battle of the Citadel. Sort of a Shenko Shoreleave Shenanigan.
1. The Last Full Measure

**W/N - **Just got back from Oklahoma City and the Mighty Vanguard of Freedom. Ready to get back to P90X. This is just a three part drabble filling in the time after the Battle of the Citadel and before the encounter with the Collector. Sort of a Shenko Shoreleave Shenanigan. A fine howdy and thankee to my betas Kaarlo and Joe! Many many thanks for stopping in and enjoying ME with me. Thug, no worries on the musical. I figured it was more of a chick thing.

Other Malarkey - Had my fill of bbq, country western music and two steppin'. "She was the queen of my double-wide trailer..." "Whiskey makes her clothes fall off..." Yee haw. Back to sushi and shinai.

**Calm Before the Storm**

The alarm in the Citadel Council Chambers rang like a gong, echoing in the cavernous halls. Staccato bursts of automatic weapons fire punctuated the ringing with an occasional grenade burst here and there. The acrid smell of burning metal hung thick in the smoke-filled air, the product of the hellish inferno that both raged and smoldered, casting a red pallor across what had been, only an hour before, the center of government for most of the known galaxy.

Geth troopers held the high ground, tracer rounds spitting from the muzzles of their pulse rifles, splattering onto the floor at the base of the grand staircase. A rocket sizzled into a cluster of 'cherry' trees, the resulting blast flinging wood and metal shrapnel around the area in a deadly shower.

Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams loved those trees. She would be pissed if she were here…if she were alive.

Bathed in the glow of the flaming trees, Lieutenant Commander Claire Shepard knelt just behind the wall leading to the bottom of the staircase. She held her fist up, stopping the advance of her small team and a ragtag band of C-Sec officers that she had rallied in the chamber. She glanced back at her force – Kaidan was right at her six, a faint blue swirl of biotic energy coating his body; Liara T'Soni was behind him with Garrus Vakarian and Tali'Zorah nar Rayya mixed in the C-Sec troops. The C-Sec group looked desperate…terrified, with jaws slack and eyes as big as saucers. Shepard could empathize with them – they were just sucker punched by the most fearsome entity in recorded history. It was a lot to wrap your brain around.

Shepard pointed right at Garrus. "Covering fire. Take out the rockets. We can handle the others."

The turian's mandibles twitched as his mouth formed a grim smile. No words were necessary and he merely gave a single nod. His three-fingered hands were wrapped around the stock and foregrip of his HMWSR sniper rifle, a gift from the commander after they saved the colony on Feros. In terms of small arms, it was the finest long-range killing tool of any sapient race.

"Okay, on three," the commander said as she focused her attention back on the Geth threat. She went through the countdown and her adrenals kicked in, firing her muscles into action. The world seemed to slow as she bolted from cover, raising the muzzle of her assault rifle towards the enemy. She placed the optics of the Spectre weapon on the head of a Geth trooper and the mass effect generator of the rifle spat specially shaped rounds into the flashlight face, shattering metal and glass. It emitted a stuttering squeak and as it crumpled to the ground. Perhaps they could feel pain. Shepard hoped so.

A storm of Geth fire erupted from the top of the staircase and tracers tore the air all around her. Her shields flashed briefly as she lined up another shot. The flames in the background helped silhouette the Geth, making targeting just a little easier. She saw another flashlight head through her optics and pressed the trigger. Its 'eye' went dark and parts of its head flew off, clanging on the ground.

"Up the stairs! Follow me!" she bellowed, taking the steps two and three at a time.

As always, it was utter chaos. Parts of a Geth trooper's body rolled down the stairs as the commander jumped over the burning hulk of a dead keeper. A deafening explosion rang in her ears and she could feel bits of shrapnel clattering off of her armor. A Geth rocket trooper poked his head up over a wall and took aim at Shepard just before a sniper round shattered his AI brain.

They were nearly at the top now. Saren had to be close and every second would count. If he opened the Conduit and the Reapers came forth…she didn't even want to think about that. More than 300 years before, Claire Shepard's ancestor charged up Cemetery Ridge in another do or die attack at a place called Gettysburg. He failed…and died.

A Geth trooper flew into the air past the commander, a victim of Kaidan Alenko's biotic strength. Nearby, a vortex of Liara's power hurled metal bodies like toys. The Geth were wavering…disorganized. Shepard could smell a breakthrough. She had a nose for battle. "Head down the right side and set up a cross fire!" she ordered and Tali took a few men over the top of the stairs and down the enemy's flank.

Then, the commander saw it – a Geth Prime. Holy Jesus it was huge. A rocket shot from one of its arms into Tali's force, detonating at the tail end of the group. The shockwave tore the legs from one of the turian officers as shrapnel cut a salarian to pieces. Tali and another turian were knocked flat. Shepard stutter-stepped towards the downed team. But, there was no time help - the Prime turned its guns on Shepard.

Its two machineguns rattled, muzzles flashing, throwing a storm of 'lead' downrange. The deep _pompom_ of the weapon's report immediately told her that this was a high-caliber threat. Shepard dove behind the lip of the staircase, rounds pinging off of the floor and wall. A turian was caught in the open and riddled before tumbling back down the steps in a bloody mess.

"We're pinned down, commander!" called Kaidan, lying flat behind the shattered form of a Geth soldier. She could see it in his eyes…he looked scared. And, by God, she was too. This shit never got any easier.

She choked down the bile forming in her throat and forced the sounds of wailing and screaming from her ears. If they didn't keep moving it wouldn't matter. Nothing would matter…fear, anger, hate…even love. From behind his cover, Kaidan made eye contact with her. It was his eyes that always stood out for her. It was those gentle, sad eyes that played her heartstrings. This time though, she hardened her heart. Sacrifices had to be made.

"You wanna die here? Get your asses moving!" she commanded Alenko and the rest. She flung a grenade over the top of the stairs and then seized a C-Sec man by his pants and hurled him upward. "Over the top, dammit, over the top!"

The grenade spewed dark gray smoke, obscuring any targeting across a multi-spectral band. The Prime fired randomly, unable to find a victim and Shepard sprinted past the men towards the towering Geth. She could hear the _zip_ of rounds flying past her head along with the occasional detonation of a rocket. Heat and flash caressed her armored body as she accelerated into the smoke. She caught a glimpse of Kaidan and Liara, their faces twisted in terror, charging at her side. It was a rare thing for Liara to show anything but serenity.

Shepard switched to her shotgun, exiting the smoke a meter from the Prime. She swung the muzzle down and right at the metal monster's knee. There was no need to aim at this range. A cone of buckshot fried the Prime's shields and smashed its leg into gears and servos. She lined up another shot, but, as it fell, its massive arm slammed into her. Her shot flew harmlessly into the air and she skidded across the floor like a bouncing ball.

The commander's head spun and she saw white spots dancing in front of her. As quick as she could, she leapt to her feet and swung the shotgun back into position, but something was wrong – the barrel was bent. On instinct, she dropped the broken shotgun and her right hand swept down onto her secondary. In seemingly slow motion, she could feel the retention clasp in the holster release the pistol into her grip as the weapon came free. At the same time, the Prime, lying on its side, was swinging its arm in her direction. She could see a rocket chambering into a launcher. Her stomach tightened. Her heart skipped a beat.

As the rocket motor ignited, the Prime spasmed, an orange glow sweeping over its form. The missile streaked into the wall just past Shepard, blowing a hole into the Asari Councilor's office. In the next moment, Tali jumped through the smoke and fired a blast into the Prime's face. God love Tali and her tech shit. As the quarian pumped shotgun shells into the monster, Kaidan and Liara joined her in putting the geth out of its mechanical misery.

As quickly as the chaos began, it was over. Only the gonging of the alarm and the crackling of fires could be heard. Shepard exhaled a long breath. There was only one more assault to perform…only one more hill to take. She'd be damned if this was going to be another tragic Pickett's Charge. Only one more staircase remained between them and Saren Arterius, the greatest traitor in Citadel Council history. Only a few minutes separated them from costly victory or utter destruction.

She looked at her crew. "You guys, on me," she said to the _Normandy_ team. Looking at the others, she could see that the remaining C-Sec officers were spent. One turian had lost an arm and an asari had lost an eye. The other two were in no shape to fight. "You C-Sec officers fought bravely. I need you to stay here and keep Saren from slipping through," she told them and saw the immediate relief on their faces. They had no idea about the Reapers. Perhaps it was better that way. The truth just might be too horrifying to bear. Besides, Shepard had seen enough innocent people die today. Using them as fodder might have been tactically expedient at this point, but she was an N7, the best of the best, and doing something like that went against her code of honor…Spectre justice be damned.

As she turned to go one of the officers grasped her hand. "Commander Shepard," he said and she looked down to see a young man's face, full of shock and anger. It was Eddie Lang, the officer she'd met at the C-Sec vehicle lot. There was a deep gash across his forehead and he held his hand over a pair of bullet wounds. Blood oozed between his fingers. "Take him down, commander. Take him down," he said in a raspy voice full of pain.

She ran a hand across his face, wiping away some of the blood. "No worries, Eddie. I'll be back."

With a snap of her fingers, the team formed a tactical 'V' with Shepard at the left wing and Kaidan at the right. Garrus and the women filled in the rest of the 'V' with the turian covering the advance with his rifle. Garrus' sharp eye and steady hand had come through more times than she could count and there wasn't a single sniper in the galaxy that she'd rather have with her right now. This was her team – forged in the fires of hardship and battle, they had become as one mind, one beating heart. As they moved up the last staircase, Shepard reached out and gently squeezed Kaidan's arm. It was a quiet, gentle gesture, acknowledging his support and sacrifice...and that one, wild, wonderful night before Ilos. God, that was only a few hours ago.

He didn't even have to say anything or look at her. She knew they had to keep a sharp eye out for Saren. It was just the way his body relaxed that told her what he felt. There was a pang of guilt as she thought she may have started something that couldn't be finished. What did it matter? There was a galaxy to save.

They crested the top of the staircase and there he was, Saren Arterius. From a hovering platform, he threw a grenade that shattered part of the chamber platform, knocking the team about. Shepard scrambled for cover, her ears ringing. Somehow, she had lost her helmet. Everything seemed hazy and almost surreal and she heard Saren's voice distantly. As if on autopilot, she talked to the turian renegade, trying to coax him away from the Citadel controls. Despite his irredeemable fall, she could see the conflict in his soul.

"Some part of you must still realize this is wrong! You can fight this!" she declared to him.

Shepard saw the struggle in him and he cried out in agony as Sovereign's implants set his nerves on fire. Against all tactical soundness, she broke cover and lowered her weapon. She saw Kaidan's horrified look, but this was the time for boldness…_tourjours l'audace._

"It's not over yet. You can still redeem yourself."

Saren wavered. She couldn't quite read his eyes. Turians were still tough for her to gauge in that regard. His chest heaved with ragged breaths and his hands quivered.

"Goodbye Shepard. Thank you." His pistol came up before she could react and the muzzle settled into the crook of his neck beneath the jaw. A shot rang out and Shepard saw blood and brains spray into the air over the turian's head. He staggered for a moment like an out of control puppet before crashing through a glass ceiling and onto the Council garden below.

A wave of relief flooded through her veins. She closed her eyes and ran her hand through her damp, matted hair. It was over. They quickly inputted Vigil's data file and opened the Citadel's arms. The fleet could deal with _Sovereign_ now. One Reaper couldn't possibly fight the combined turian, asari, and human forces. And, with the arrival of the human fleet, the _Destiny Ascension_, the asari flagship, was saved along with the Council. Shepard smiled, but shook her head. Those freaking bureaucrats owed her. After a tense, chuckling snort, it was time to finish things and she motioned to Kaidan and Garrus. "Go make sure Saren's dead." They climbed down and fired rounds into the renegade's head and point-blank range. What an ignoble end for a once glorious warrior.

Shepard still felt hazy though, her vision dim and her tongue thick in her mouth. She shook her head to clear it, but the feeling was stubborn, clinging to her like a wet shirt. As she was licking her lips, out of nowhere, red sparks erupted everywhere and she thought it was a dream until the entire area began quaking. Tali grabbed her arm for stability, but the ground gave way and they slid uncontrollably into the garden. Waves of crimson energy bolted from Saren's body and his flesh peeled away like the skin of an onion, revealing a hideous skeleton of metal and gears beneath.

The monstrosity growled in a deep mechanized voice. "I am _Sovereign_ and this station is mine."

The commander's skin crawled as she realized that the creature's jaw had burned away along with all traces of its organic origin. Saren Arterius was no more. As the team stood transfixed and horrified, it got down on all fours like a mutated metal cockroach and its red eyes flared at Shepard.

She screamed in terror.

"Wake up. Wake up, Claire, wake up!" It was Kaidan's voice yelling into her ear as someone shook her back and forth. Saren's ghastly form faded into blackness to be replaced by Kaidan's worried expression framed in the dim light of an alarm clock. His hand wiped a sheen of perspiration from her forehead. "You were having that nightmare again…the one about Saren."

She exhaled a long breath. "Holy shit, I can't take much more of this," she said in a voice heavy with fatigue as she rubbed the back of her neck. It had only been a few days since _Sovereign_ had been destroyed…along with a lot of the Citadel and Shepard had been reliving it nightly.

Kaidan cupped her face with both hands. She found that she liked when he did that. He snorted with righteous indignation. "And that's why Captain…I mean Councilor Anderson forced you to take some leave. You don't fly into the heart of darkness and emerge unscathed."

"The Geth are still out there, Kaidan…and the Reapers are right behind them."

"All the more reason to recharge your batteries. You, above anyone, should know the limits of human endurance, genetic and cyber enhancements notwithstanding. And, if not, I'll refer you to Article 12 of the Alliance Navy Personnel Guidelines. With all due respect, ma'am, RTFM. Read the -"

"…Fucking manual," she finished with a chuckle. "With the consent of the ship's surgeon, a commanding officer may be temporarily relieved of command by the vessel's executive officer should both the XO and the ship's surgeon deem the CO to physically, mentally, or emotionally unfit for command. Yes, yes, I know."

Kaidan poked her on the nose with the tip of his finger. "And I, acting XO of the _Normandy_, do hereby temporarily relieve you of command."

Shepard shrugged, seemingly unconvinced. "I don't see Doctor Chakwas here. And besides, I was thinking of making Liara my acting XO in Pressly's absence."

He made a face that showed mock insult. "You're always banking me hard to port, aren't you?"

"That's my job, Alenko," she said and he threw his hands up in exasperation and lay back on his pillow with a plop of his head. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle at his discomfort. It was a good, if only temporary, feeling. Then, some motion caught her attention and Claire looked out of the window into the dim light beyond. "It's snowing." Her somber disposition quickly returned. She slid out of bed and across the wooden floor to the window. Her bare feet were cold, but she ignored it – a little chill shouldn't bother her when so many had perished for her cause. She stifled a shiver.

"Well, it is nearly Christmas in New England."

"Christmas…," she said distantly as if the word were foreign. "I use to enjoy the occasional holiday in this house. My parents kept this place for the rare times in which we weren't in space." A faint smile eased onto her lips as a couple of fond memories flitted through her mind.

Kaidan glanced around nervously as if looking for something on the wall. "Remind me again what your dad does for a living."

Claire blew a breath on the window pane, leaving a coat of steam. As if in a dream, she vacantly placed the palm of her hand on the pane and wiped it off. "He's the Director of Alliance Intelligence, but don't worry, this place isn't bugged. He already knows I'm screwing my squad leader."

Kaidan about flew out of bed. "What?" It was as if her dad had just walked in on them.

Shepard snorted and made a broad smirk. "He wouldn't be worth his salt if he didn't know." This time, she couldn't stifle the shiver. Then, she felt warm arms slide around her waist and across her belly. She was surprised that she didn't hear Kaidan get out of bed with her enhanced hearing and all. Her mind was elsewhere. She felt his chest against her back and her bare bottom pressed against his…. Her eyes popped open wide. What better way to keep her mind off of the recent madness? "Well, Merry Christmas to you," she cooed as they meandered back to bed.

CODEX

Secondary – military and law enforcement term for a second weapon, generally a pistol.

Pickett's Charge – Confederate attack on the Union entrenched positions during the final day of the Battle of Gettysburg during the US Civil War. Resulted in the decimation of Pickett's Division and the decisive defeat of General Lee's Army of Northern Virginia, which turned the tide of the war.


	2. Eye of the Hurricane

W/N - Arigato gozaimasu again. The effect that I'm trying to create is to show that Shepard is both a warrior and a lover. :P I like putting in the details of the battle scenes to show that she knows what she's doing on the battlefield and that she's truly a naval officer. That being said, it's time for some love detail. :D This one ends on a somewhat sinister note, setting up the events of ME2. Oh, and for the military funeral scene, go to You Tube and play "Flowers of the Forest." No dry eyes there. Also, working on ME, the Musical with a mind towards ME2, 2 Musical 4 U.

Other Malarkey - Great weekend of athletic and martial arts mayhem. Worked on the Iaido Eishin-Ryu Okuden set from Kasumi through Itomagoi. Even did the super secret Bangai "Demonslayer" set. The Force...I mean Mu Shin was with me.

Hajime!

**Eye of the Hurricane – 23 December 2183 – 0300 GMT**

Claire Shepard pulled the sheets of the bed around her body and breathed in the soft aroma of the fabric, feeling the texture with her skin. It sure beat the heck out of the rack aboard the _Normandy_ even if that was the CO's quarters. And that was a kilometer and a half better than those ungodly bunks in the crew's quarters where you shared a rack with some other schlub. She parted her lips and sighed softly.

She could feel a comfortable warmth near her in the bed and she reached her hand behind her to touch bare skin. Before Ilos, she hadn't had a lover in months, but, once restarted, she was insatiable. She thought about it constantly, an unexpected gift from her enhanced genetics. Her heart quickened a step and she licked her lips. The presence behind her snuggled up tight and a hand stroked her stomach softly, letting fingertips lightly brush her breast. She uttered a low moan as a tingling sensation rippled down her body to settle between her thighs.

Claire's previous lovers were just fluff, more than comfort food and less than soul mates. But maybe, just maybe, this might be the one. It would certainly make her mother happy. With eyes still closed, she rolled over and cupped the face of the presence behind her. Something was off though. The contours of the jaw were wrong. The shape of the nose was different. She opened her eyes to see blue skin.

"Liara, what the fuck?"

Claire bolted upright and opened her eyes _again_. She was dreaming. She blew out a long breath and blinked. Her skin still tingled in all the right places. It seemed pretty damn real.

Someone rustled in bed beside her. This time, she could see the now familiar black hair, tussled up like a pompadour. That stupid wave on Kaidan's head was both annoying and endearing at the same time. "You okay?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, dreaming again. Sorry."

"No, it's okay. Was it the one about Saren?"

Shepard swept her hand down her body, enjoying the sensation with just a little guilt. Well, maybe more than just a little. "No, not Saren. Definitely not Saren. Just go back to sleep."

"Mmmm," he half said, half grunted and then drifted off again.

Claire plopped her head back on her foam pillow. So much had happened in so short a time. How did her choices lead her to this point in time? A question popped into her head. _When was that?_ _God, it was just after Noveria_. The image of that confrontation with Kaidan and Liara standing in front of her coalesced in her mind. His face was almost twisted with anger and she could see the hurt in both of their eyes. But, like on the battlefield, a decision had to be made. She could see Liara's eyes mist as the asari bit her lip. "I'm so sorry, Liara. I'm so sorry." Claire would never forget those eyes.

For the longest time in her life, romance was strategy. Sun Tzu and Von Clausewitz had more room in her heart and little was left over for any man. But, love wasn't just a game anymore. You had to live with the consequences. Still, a part of Claire never ceased to wonder what might have been had she swung the other way. To be honest, as the Duke of Wellington said after the Battle of Waterloo, it was a near run thing. She closed her eyes and, in her mind, she felt the warmth of the blue hands on her skin again. The tip of a finger brushed her lips, just barely touching while another finger worked lower, beginning at her belly button. Imagination was a wonderful thing. The lower hand stroked her hip bone, igniting a cascade of sparks along her flesh. Goosebumps prickled along her thigh.

Claire's mouth was dry now and her chest rose to take in air. Did she regret her choice? She _did_ feel such a connection with Liara. Plus, there were those adoring eyes and the way her lips parted as she listened. She felt the blue fingers glide over the prim tuft of hair between her legs. Her eyes rolled back and her toes curled. Shepard bit the back of her hand…hard. Ok, enough was enough. This was just torture. What might have been was just what might have been and it needed to stay that way, imaginary or not.

She shook her head resolutely, but with more than a little disappointment. With a couple of deep breaths, Claire began to doze off. She would need the rest this morning. It was going to be a big day.

**23 December 2183 – 1500 GMT**

The shuttle to London was mercifully quick and uneventful with modern transportation being what it was. It was hard to imagine that within the span of one human life, people had been flying slow, turbine powered jets around the world before mass effect fields. It was downright primitive.

Claire Shepard looked out from their hotel window down at the River Thames. Cold raindrops peppered the icy waters of the ancient river as people moved about, bundled up against the winter weather. Westminster Abbey stood prominently nearby, a testament to the rich and enduring culture of the English people. Claire smiled as she thought about what a paradox of personality that she was. On the one hand, she was obsessed with everything new and fancy. On the other, she had a deep and abiding love of history and tradition. That part, she knew, was her military upbringing.

"Wow, would you check out this room!" Kaidan Alenko said in wonder. He had good cause to wonder as the room, paneled in dark wood and elegant wallpaper, created an Old World, aristocratic atmosphere. "Who's the guy in the old painting?" he asked, pointing to a reproduction of a man in a red uniform with high collar, who was looking down his long nose.

"He's the Duke of Wellington. You know…Waterloo?"

Kaidan nodded his head. "Oh yeah. And check out the sheets on the bed! I could get used to this," he said as he ran his hand over the fabric.

"Egyptian linen. High thread count. It's all about the thread count." Shepard knew she was high maintenance. Part of her wondered if Kaidan would put up with the cost. "And Kaidan, I've taken the liberty of having some wine delivered for later. I'm sure that I'll be needing a glass…or two after the ceremony."

Kaidan walked over to an open box with a bottle. "You mean this? It looks kind of fancy."

She left the window to join him and placed her hand over his as he admired the deep red liquid in its crystal decanter. "It's an Australian Syrah, Twenty One Seventy Nine. Sort of off the beaten path. I think you'll like it."

He chuckled nervously and part of Shepard liked that he was a fish out of water in her high-end world. It gave her a sense of control in the relationship and control meant comfort. "I don't know if I could afford that vintage," he said, "on my lieutenant's salary."

She slid her hand down along his arm as she stepped away to get her dress uniform. "This one's on me." She opened the armoire, an oak piece carved with images of lions and fleur de lis, and pulled out her dress blues. "We'd best get ready. The ceremony is at 1700. Councilor Anderson is making the trip all the way from the Citadel," she said with excitement. She loved the old man with all her heart while he was the CO of the _Normandy_ and, after he knocked Ambassador Udina flat on his ass she practically worshipped the ground that he walked on.

Shepard handed Kaidan his dress blues. "I'm not a real stickler for protocol," she said, "but I never liked the Utilities that we wore on the _Normandy_," she added, speaking about the workday uniform that they wore aboard ship. She had an odd weakness for ostentation and pageantry, something that occasionally grated on her shipmates.

Kaidan slid on his dark blue trousers with a golden stripe down the side of each leg. "That looks magnificent on you," Shepard said with a glow as he tucked in the white shirt and put a scarlet waistcoat over it. Claire helped him into the black jacket, adorned with golden braids and buttons and she carefully adjusted the rank pips on his shoulder boards. However, just for this day, they would not wear decorations or insignia upon their uniforms as prescribed by ancient tradition.

"I'm starting to look like the duke up there," he said wryly as he buttoned the tight collar of his shirt.

"You are far more distinguished than the Iron Duke, Staff Lieutenant Alenko. You'll be the belle of the ball."

Shepard's uniform was just as complex, a series of hooks, zippers and buttons that poured her into a wasp waisted blue uniform with a scarlet cummerbund. "You look pretty sharp, commander," Kaidan said, running his hand along the golden stripe along the side of her skirt. She picked up his white cap and smacked him in the chest with it.

"You clean up pretty nice too," she said with a wink.

A hovering staff car was waiting in the valet area of the hotel and a tall soldier in a red uniform with a black bearskin cap opened the door for them. "Ma'am, sir, welcome to London. We are honored by your visit," he said in a stiff, but distinguished English accent.

Shepard nodded. "Thank you, sergeant." She noticed the red flags with gold stars on the hood of the car as she slid into the back seat. This was an admiral's car. In fact, this was Admiral Hackett's car. Despite the enormity of what they had done, it was still hard to believe all of the fuss. She wasn't complaining though. Being the center of attention was something she had gotten used to.

The ride to Westminster Palace was quick and the staff car pulled up to a grand entrance where Kaidan peered up at the great clock tower. "Will you look at that? It makes quite a sight at dusk." Indeed, the exterior lighting around the palace illuminated the vast stonework, making the place seem otherworldly.

Red clad soldiers escorted them to the entrance where an attendant put out his hand. "Ma'am, sir, your caps please."

The two handed the man their white caps and proceeded behind two guards into the palace. Their boots clicked on the tile, creating echoes in the long hall. Shepard looked over to Kaidan and saw him wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead and loosen his collar.

"It's okay to be nervous," she said as she squeezed his hand.

"Can we go back and fight Saren again? That's got to be easier than this."

They filed into the hall where Shepard's eye was caught by many familiar faces. A cacophony of voices filled the large area as people milled about, discussing galactic politics and the desperate battle on the Citadel. They strode over to a man with a welcome smile. "Councilor Anderson…," Claire said with a reverent bow.

He looked about as uncomfortable as Kaidan, standing stiff in his rich blue suit of office. "Shit, Shepard," he said in a low voice, his hand over his mouth, "I went from Navy Captain to Citadel Councilor overnight. With all the pressure, I've developed just a little bit of sympathy for Udina." Then, a faint grin cracked over his lips. "Still, it was great knocking him on his ass."

"I wish I could have been there, skipper."

"You were doing more important things. And, I'm not your skipper anymore," he said in a fatherly tone.

"Sir, you'll always be our skipper." It was a heartfelt moment between two warriors. In all the hustle and bustle after the battle on the Citadel, Shepard had only seen Anderson at the ceremony where humans had been invited to sit on the Council and, even then, they didn't have time to chat. So much had happened in so short a time.

"Hey," another voice sounded nearby, "don't go getting all sentimental on me." It was Jeff "Joker" Moreau, making that scrunchy "Joker" face with his mocking sing song voice.

Shepard didn't know whether to roll her eyes or laugh. Her pilot was both aggravating and endearing all at the same time. "Hello, Joker."

He gave her a mischievous grin through that furry beard of his and she knew that something else was up. "So, commander," he began, elongating his words for effect, "what was this you said about medals and politicians making speeches, huh?"

He got her good. Shepard winced remembering the line that she had given him when he joked about getting a medal for his snappy flying at Therum. It seemed like now that she was the recipient, the tables were turned. She made a mock laugh with a forced smile. "Eh, heh…Yeah, here, give me your finger," she said, making a snapping motion with her hand like she was breaking a twig.

Joker recoiled, holding his fingers with his other hand. "Oh, oh, don't you dare. I need these fingers for flying."

Kaidan burst out with a belly laugh and even Councilor Anderson let out a chuckle at the childish exchange between the two. When you got pilot and commander going good, no solar system was safe. Shepard gave Joker a wink to signify that they had reached an equitable peace. The guy had really grown on her since they set out from Arcturus Station all those months ago. He even looked pretty darn spiffy in his dress blues even though she knew he must be hating every minute of wearing that get up. She pulled a couple of champagne glasses off of a passing waiter and handed one to Jeff. "Yeah, someone's got to pull my boots out of the fire," she said, reminding him of that statement that he made when he saved the shore party from being blasted by molten rock.

He raised his glass. "To the _Normandy_. Finest ship in the fleet…with the finest helmsman too."

Anderson clinked glasses with the gathered crowd. "Here, here!"

Shepard looked around as they sipped and she could just make out Doctor Chakwas chatting with Corporal Fredericks while Pressly and Adams argued over something like an old married couple. "You'll give yourself an ulcer!" Adams said irritably. "Quit worrying!" Even with the grand Westminster Hall nearly full, Shepard thought the chamber seemed empty for the lack of one person.

"To Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams."

The four went silent for a moment before raising their glasses again. Shepard bit her lip before she took another drink. After Virmire, that was the most difficult letter she'd ever had to write. Since Ashley's parents had both passed, only three younger sisters remained. The letter began as, "Dear Abigail Williams, it is with great regret that I write…." Then, there was the inevitable tripe about Ashley's bravery and great sacrifice for the Alliance. Shepard didn't send one of those heartless vidmails, she penned the letter in ink in her own handwriting. In the services she had to sit through yet another playing of _Flowers of the Forest_ and _Amazing Grace_ and had to present yet another folded Alliance flag to grieving relatives. When would it all end?

A hot, moist feeling penetrated Shepard's nostrils and eyes and she gulped down the rest of her champagne. "You okay?" Kaidan asked.

She nodded and forced a smile. "Stiff upper lip," she answered solemnly. "I thought writing the letter to Jenkins' family was hard…." He grasped her arm lightly, showing his support.

"I never hope to be in that position, Claire."

"I'm sorry to say that you will be." Then, she saw someone that she needed to speak to. "Oh, Kaidan, come here. There's someone you need to meet." She nodded to Joker and Anderson, excusing themselves. "Lieutenant…Councilor."

She practically dragged Kaidan through the crowd to a seemingly middle-aged couple. "Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, please meet Mister and Missus John Michael Shepard, my parents," she said with all formality.

Kaidan gulped audibly and his grip on her hand tightened several notches. He clicked his heels and made a curt bow. "Director Shepard…Captain Shepard," he said to each parent. The poor guy looked terrified. He probably _would_ have rather fought Saren again.

Her father looked down his nose for a second just like Claire knew he would. Captain Hannah Shepard, on the other hand, gave Kaidan a warm embrace. "Thank you for taking care of our daughter," Hannah said. "I read the After Action Report and I'm just glad you survived that ordeal."

Lieutenant Alenko chuckled and scratched his head in an "aww shucks" sort of way. "Actually, ma'am, she took care of me."

"I suspected as much," Director Shepard interjected, ever the standoffish aristocrat. He then turned to his daughter. "I expected no less from a Shepard."

Claire narrowed an eye. "Father…," she said in a chastising voice, "it was a team effort. Everyone on the _Normandy_ was a hero." It was time for a topic change before things got ugly. "So, mother, how is the _Orizaba_? It must be nice commanding a Dreadnaught."

"It's…big. I thought it would be just a notch above a cruiser, but it's a whole different ball game."

Claire knew her mother would catch on quickly though. "I'm certain you'll be better than John Paul Jones. There's surely an admiral's star in your future."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, dear," Hannah said. "One thing at a time. I'm still getting used to how she maneuvers…how she accelerates. You have to think far ahead with a Dreadnaught." There was a twinkle in her mother's eye, one that spoke of a gambit.

Claire took the bait. She loved discussions of tactics with her mother. The elder Shepard was considered to be a master at naval warfare. "Which is what Jellicoe failed to do at Jutland," Claire stated boldly, invoking the controversial Dreadnaught battle of 1916.

Hannah didn't seem convinced. "Well, Beatty mishandled his battlecruisers in the initial encounter with the Germans and he failed to provide proper reconnaissance for the British Grand Fleet. Jellicoe didn't have enough information to make a good decision."

"Still, Jellicoe failed to concentrate his superior forces and got cautious. He swung away from the German torpedo attack and, by the time he recovered, it was too late for victory. The best that he could achieve was a draw." Claire could imagine the dark waters of the North Sea frothing with the wakes of iron Dreadnaughts and the giant muzzle flashes of monstrous naval guns.

"But few give Scheer the proper credit for masterful maneuvering of the High Seas Fleet in the face of nearly overwhelming odds. Up to that time no one dared take on the Royal Navy," Hannah added and then used her hands to guide Claire towards the podium. Debate over. "Come dear, your moment is about to begin."

Claire stood thoughtfully for a moment. There was something she needed to say. "It is…our moment. A moment for all of humanity."

Her father put a hand on her shoulder. "Well said, Claire. It is indeed just that."

A series of musical notes caught their attention and the murmuring of the crowd died away. Claire put a finger to her lips. "Sounds like the _British Grenadiers_." Through the crowd, she could see musicians in red tunics with white trousers playing finely polished brass and percussions as Councilor David Anderson made his way to the podium to stand beside Admiral Steven Hackett. She thought back to a time less than half a year ago when they took a huge chance on selecting her as the XO of the _Normandy_. With just a twist of fate she could have been relegated to something like Colonial Services Command or Alliance Personnel Command. Sure, getting Thrift Savings Plan benefits to Alliance service members was important, but that was not for her. Shepard was born and bred for the battlefield like Achilles and Caesar.

A series of loud chimes brought all conversation to a halt and the hall became quiet as members of the Systems Alliance Parliament and Navy gathered near the podium. An officer handed Councilor Anderson a stack of certificates and some small blue boxes, covered in a silky material. Anderson cleared his throat, bringing attention to the front of the hall.

"Distinguished and honored guests, is my pleasure to stand before you as a representative for all humanity. It seems like only yesterday that I relinquished command of the _Normandy_ to oversee Alliance military issues on the Citadel. While it was a difficult and trying time for me, I see that the right thing happened."

Shepard knew how he had gotten screwed and he had every right to be bitter about it, but there was no indication of any ill will in his person this day. He was positively beaming, his eyes bright and his chest puffed out with pride. Just the contrast with seeing him so defeated after he lost command of the _Normandy_ gave Claire a warm fuzzy.

Anderson took a breath and an ear-to-ear grin broke out over his face. "I sometimes fancy myself a man of insight even if Admiral Hackett disagrees with me," he said with a chuckle and an elbow into the admiral's chest. "If, in my career, I made one wise choice and one enlightened prediction it was to select Commander Claire Shepard for the job and to say that the crew of the _Normandy_ would make humanity shine."

"With that in mind," he continued, "I would like the crew of the _Normandy_ to join me on the stage."

Shepard turned to see her parents. Hannah stroked Claire's cheek with a loving hand while John nodded firmly, his lips set in satisfaction. While seemingly cold, the lady Shepards knew that this was tantamount to Director Shepard dancing a jig with arms flailing. John extended his hand and Claire shook it. "You've done the family proud," he said with just the outermost edge of his lips curling up.

Claire turned and made a curt bow to Joker and gestured for him to lead the way. He hobbled on his crutches, but every painful stride was full of energy and strength. That boy did a bang up job against _Sovereign_ and he had every right to hold his head high. As the crew reached the stage the hall filled with the roar of applause and the flash of cameras capturing the moment. Joker pumped one of his crutches in the air, shouting, "Yeah!" With that, the roar rose to a fever pitch, nearly deafening Shepard.

Councilor Anderson stepped back and crossed his arms for a couple of minutes, allowing the crew to bask in the glory. Shepard looked over to him and he mouthed, "This is your time. Enjoy it." Then, he pointed to his temple and winked. "But don't let it go to your head."

He then raised his arms to quiet the crowd. Shepard looked out upon a sea of humanity, nearly everyone who was anyone in the Alliance and Earth nation states was here. There was even a special section for Alliance service members where a man and a woman held up a banner that read, _We love you Commander Shepard – SSV Perugia._ She gave them a wave and the dark-haired man began dancing around. Claire had to smirk at all the fan attention. She'd even once read Conrad Verner's blog and some of the wild stories that were posted there about her exploits. Speaking of Conrad, she wondered how that guy was doing. Thank God she convinced him to go home and keep the home front safe. If he were around the Citadel when Saran had attacked he would have done something stupid. Call her silly and sentimental, but she really cared about that knucklehead.

With the crowd silent, Admiral Hackett began opening the small blue boxes, one by one, and then called out, "Staff Commander Claire Shepard, front and center!" The man was the picture of a patrician officer, gray hair framing a weathered face behind a prominent, aquiline nose. Shepard popped to attention and right-faced, clicking her heels. She marched with measured steps up to the admiral, where she snapped a sharp salute, fingers to the temple, palm down. The admiral returned the salute and extended his hand. "Congratulations, Claire, the _Normandy _is getting a unit citation and you are getting…a second Star of Terra."

She shook his hand firmly and admired the gleaming silver star affixed to a crimson ribbon. Hackett placed it in her left hand and she stepped back to salute again. Her chest swelled with pride in this moment for her and her crew. She turned about on a dime and marched back as Hackett announced, "Lieutenant Commander Colin Pressly, front and center!"

By the time she had reached the gathered crew, Kaidan was being called. "Lieutenant Commander Kaidan Alenko, front and center!"

They made eye contact and he mouthed, "Lieutenant Commander?"

Shepard was just as surprised. Damn, that was a well earned promotion. She began to stretch out her hand, but stopped. "Aww, screw it," she said and wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a wet, juicy one on his lips. The crowd went nuts.

**Rear Admiral Margot Kimmel**

Standing in front of a vid monitor, Kimmel's jaw was as taut as a trampoline with her teeth clenched so tight they might snap under the pressure. She crossed and then uncrossed her arms yet again, the fifth time in a minute. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she slammed her fist down on the intercom. "Are you seeing this? Are you watching this? That woman is a disgrace to the uniform."

A man's digitally distorted voice flowed from the speaker. "Put your personal feelings aside, Margot. This is business. I'm more interested in your information and our long-term plans than hearing about your hatred of Shepard."

Kimmel huffed and her face flushed red to match the fiery color of her hair. Rarely did anyone speak to her with such disrespect and when they had, they lived to regret it. "You don't know the embarrassment that she caused me. _I_ was the commander of Elysium! Me! Her little escapade during the Blitz nearly cost me my promotion. You just don't know."

There was a sigh emanating from the speaker that dripped of impatience. "Might I remind you that you're speaking to an agent of the Shadow Broker. We know."

This didn't slow Margot down for one second. She had an axe to grind. "By saving that colony she cast doubt on my command. I had to get past an official inquiry! Me!"

"You _did_ shut down the planetary defense grid so that you would come in under budget and get a bigger bonus."

Kimmel slammed her fist down again. "Enough! You have no idea what it takes to command!" she declared with her eyes bulging out of their sockets. If her goals hadn't aligned with the Shadow Broker's she would have nothing to do with them and their lies. Deep down, she knew what the truth really was, but the truth no longer aligned with her goals. For her, this was no longer problematic. There were always casualties in war and the truth was often one of them.

"You're right," the man said. "I could not have manipulated my way out of that inquiry as masterfully. You show an excellent grasp of politics, admiral."

She leaned back into her chair and tapped the remote to the vid monitor to replay Shepard receiving that medal. And then, there was that kiss. Margot swept her hand and knocked a trinket off of her expansive desk. There was no more point to this banter. It would only make her more uncomfortable. "So, what is our next move?"

"The Shadow Broker usually loathes to take any direct action on the stage of intergalactic intelligence, but…we have been given an assignment that…how should I say it…is difficult to turn down. A group called the Collectors has taken in interest in Commander Shepard and thus, our goals are aligned. With your contacts in Parliament, you will need to discredit any evidence that the Reapers exist."

Kimmel snorted. "And just how will I do that?"

"We will provide you with the evidence and manipulate the stage to back you. You provide the political clout to make it happen. Think of it, Margot, Claire Shepard's reputation in tatters…you, Commander of the Fifth Fleet at Arcturus. Surely, you _deserve_ such a lofty position."

Margot squirmed for a moment. The Fifth Fleet Commander was an awesome responsibility, overseeing the defense of an entire sector and dozens of warships. She knew that she had never personally participated in a single battle, much less having the tactical training to lead a fleet. But that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the power and the ability to show her naysayers that she had it. When she was Commander, Fifth Fleet, she would extract a bloody vengeance on many an Alliance officer. She would purge the Navy of the undesirable and undeserving. People needed to learn that you didn't cross Margot Kimmel. Her political friends in Parliament would be pleased.

"I do deserve it," she said with confidence. "After all, I've never actually seen this…this Reaper," she scoffed. "For all I know, it's just another one of Shepard's fairy tales."

There was a satisfied murmur. "Yes, yes, you keep thinking that, Margot."

CODEX

Sun Tzu – World famous ancient strategist from China.

Carl Von Clausewitz – Prussian soldier and German military theorist in the early 1800's.

John Paul Jones – Famous Captain of the _Bonne Homme Richard_ during the American War of Independence.

Battle of Jutland – Large, but indecisive naval battle between the Royal Navy and the Kaiserliche Marine near Denmark in 1916.

The British Grenadiers – A march dedicated to elite British soldiers.


	3. Treason

**W/N - **Ok, it was supposed to be three chapters, but I'm extending it one more as I want to expand on the intrigue. Through my job, I have a facination with behavioral science and pathology and I wanted to show how someone would develop such a warped view of the world. Yes, Kaarlo, she's a composite with some actual anecdotal situations thrown in for fun and flavor. Thanks so much for your walkthrough which really helps my plot line. Many thanks too for everyone stopping in. Please let me know if there is a direction that might be good or interesting. And please read Jen DeClan's wonderful musical comedy too, the inspiration for my musical. The final chapter will be the Shenko fluff finale.

Other malarkey - I flew one of the military's premier transports the other day. Incredible experience! Good and goofball Iaido practice. Sensei got on me for swinging my hips and shoulders as I walked before drawing my sword.

Sensei - "Alice, you walk like a girl."

Me - "Sensei, I am a girl!"

**Rear Admiral Margot Kimmel**

Margot jammed her thumb down on the control to shut down the vid link with Earth. She had had enough of Shepard's glory-mongering to last a lifetime. How could one woman be so lucky to have been in so many crisis points? The Skyllian Blitz? That should have been Margot's time in the sun. The admiral had sacked half of her staff and had the other half running too scared to move. She had shown them who was boss. And Eden Prime, Terra Nova and the Citadel? It was dumb luck that allowed Shepard to save all of those undeserving masses. It made Margot sick to think of all of the crazed fans kissing Shepard's ass. It should be her ass they were kissing.

Few really appreciated Margot's greatness and the sacrifices that she made. She had spent uncounted hours adding multiple layers of bureaucracy to the Alliance Logistics Command and the Frontier Command, increasing accountability of every single credit spent. She personally reviewed every one of the thousands of vouchers generated in the command. One of her proudest moments was the cashiering of a marine for miscalculating the credit exchange rate from his tdy to Palaven. She spent days pouring over his voucher to find that one rounding error. The cheat insisted that it was a simple mistake, but she knew better. Those two credits were Alliance property and she was the appointed guardian of each and every credit in the coffers.

With such sacrifice, Margot couldn't afford a family. There was simply no time for that nonsense. With spending 16 hours a day, seven days a week keeping the rabble in line there was no room left for someone who would just be a distraction. In any case, no one else could possibly understand her noble mission. She would do this alone and that's the way it had to be.

The call from the Shadow Broker's agent had given her hope though. Since the Geth attack, administrators like her had taken a back seat to the cowboys like Shepard, Anderson and Alenko. If she had had her way, the lot of them would be undergoing Courts Martial for stealing the _Normandy_. Things like that should never have happened – that was why there was a lengthy approval process for everything! Now was the time to put the true believers like her back in the limelight. There were now others that wanted her to succeed and for Shepard to fail. She finally had the backing that would make that happen.

Margot swiveled her chair to face her monitor and, with a touch, she brought up her email. Annoying pop ups were already accumulating on the desktop, showing Shepard slobbering over that fool, Alenko. Margot sneered and dragged those into the trash. She scanned the inbox and her heart fluttered when she saw an encrypted email from an anonymous source. She ran a back tracer on the letter, but it came up dry. No matter - perhaps this was what she was waiting for. If so, the Shadow Broker's people worked fast.

With a double tap of her finger, the letter opened and images of the shattered "Reaper" appeared. At first, Margo was disappointed. This was supposed to disprove the existence of the Reapers. She looked again and saw arrows pointing to parts of the pictures and an article "debunking" the Reaper threat.

_Anderson and Shepard are covering their tracks. Having committed espionage and treason, they concocted this entire fantasy to avoid prosecution and we, the general public, are eating that poisoned cookie. _

The article went on to point out the fabricated images of _Sovereign's_ remains and how the supership was merely a Geth platform, nothing more.

_There are no Reapers._

A sinister grin spread across Margot's face. This was precisely what was needed. There was another step that needed to be taken, however. No one could be left to rebut these revelations. Margot double clicked on another icon. There was a beep and a message flashed.

_Restricted access. Security code required._

Margot furrowed her brows and stroked her chin. This could be problematic. Alliance Counterintelligence routinely did audits on restricted access information. However, the admiral had prepared for just such a contingency. She didn't get to her position through the wasted effort of hard work and good leadership. With a press of her finger, she activated a program that scrambled her protocol address, spoofing the system by making it appear to be a computer down the hall. Then, she typed in her aide-de-camp's access codes. If someone needed to take the fall for espionage, it wouldn't be her. After all, if a breach were detected, she would run the investigation. It was a beautiful system.

Sensitive information scrolled up on her monitor and she browsed the data until she found what she was looking for.

"Hmm, classified Fifth Fleet deployment schedules…. _SSV Normandy_ will be patrolling the Omega Nebula in a week and a half. Ah," she said, biting her lower lip as she saw the jewel that would complete her crown, "they will be passing planet Alchera on Three January." Her heart hammered in her chest. This was critical war effort intelligence and she now had it in her hands. Initially, she felt a horrible sense of trepidation. What she was thinking was illegal in so many ways. However, Anderson, Shepard and Alenko had slithered away from allegations of treason, so why not Margot Kimmel now? She had taken great pains to not be detected and her new allies would shield her if anything went wrong.

"It's for the greater good."

She attached the deployment schedule to a reply to the Shadow Broker's agent and added, _for your information should your Collector friends wish to know._

With a satisfied smirk, she hit the send button.

CODEX

TDY – Temporary Duty, aka TAD.


	4. Fire and Ice

W/N - Wow, I finally completed this holiday piece. I'm usully not a fluff writer, but I'm going to try my hand at some gooeyness. You need that sort of thing to balance the action and darkness of the story. Merry Christmas to all and thank you for your support. I've been addicted to Dragon Age so I wrote up a little bit of that in the meantime. There's a little nod to Padawan Mage and his home too. :D This should lead into some ME2 madness.

Other malarkey - I just got back from a really sucky trip, kamsamhamnida very much. I worked 45 hours in three days with 11 hours of sleep. The weather sucked, the food sucked, the hours sucked, only the quarters were good. I did log tons of flight time. I am the front runner in the winter Kendo tournament, yudansha (1-3 degree black belt) division. I currently have seven wins and one draw with all of my wins being 2-0 scores. I faced six guys and two gals so far. Finals are tonight.

Warning - some sensuality.

Merry Christmas and please enjoy. Otanoshimi nasaemase!

**Christmas Morning – Nine Days Before the Alchera Patrol**

Claire Shepard's eyes flickered open as a familiar smell wafted past her nostrils. The aroma evoked deep memories from long ago and she envisioned her father in a red wool suit with a thick, white beard. In the vision, her mother was baking in the kitchen of their ship's stateroom, a cabin reserved for higher-ranking officers. There was laughter and the tearing of brightly colored paper and ribbons along with a grand breakfast fit for royalty.

Stretching her arms in bed, Claire inhaled, letting the warm, inviting smell filter up her nose. She savored it for a moment, picking out the scent of peppermint, pine, and freshly baked bread. A sliver of light cut through the bedroom drapes, letting her know that it was well into morning. So what? Let it be late in the morning. For once, Claire was on leave and there was no one to save, no one to fight, and no one to badger her about something. _A day without fires to put out, imagine that?_ She pulled the sheets up tight against her chest and yawned. There was something to be said about warm sheets and a real bed.

Then, to her horror, the sheets were ripped from her grasp and she yelped like a puppy. A gale of laughter greeted her groans.

"The great Commander Shepard, caught with her pants down, sleeping in late. Get your scrawny butt up, breakfast is ready."

She sat up with a pouty face, lower lip pushed out while covering herself with her hands. "Awww, I never get to sleep in. What kind of Santa are you? The sucky kind, I tell you."

Wearing a red, terry cloth robe, Kaidan deftly picked up a tray and slid down on the bed besides her. "I'm the kind of Santa that comes bearing gifts." He plucked a red rose from a vase on the tray and held it out to her. The pouty expression vanished in an instant and she bit the stem of the flower, holding it between her teeth.

Claire gazed over the tray, filled with plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon along with glasses of orange and cranberry juice. She immediately felt hungry as her stomach rumbled in anticipation. "Thass the bess kind of Shanta," she said with the rose still tucked between her lips.

Kaidan ran a finger down her bare chest. "And this is the best kind of Christmas," he said. "You know, it's snowing outside…pretty heavily. I don't think we're going anywhere for a bit."

"Heh, winters in Connecticut…typical." Claire set the rose down and took a sip of cranberry juice. "As my parents got to higher rank, we could spend more holidays planetside. Still, some of my favorite memories were aboard the _Saratoga_. We could even get real trees from Eden Prime."

"Well, I'm glad we saved Eden Prime then. Here, try some of the eggs," he said, holding a forkful of the yellow mush in front of her face. She slurped up the mouthful of Kaidan's concoction and savored the taste on her tongue, slightly runny, slightly salty, with a hint of cheese and green onion.

"Oh God, those are the best eggs I've had in a long time. I'd gotten use to the powdered crap that we get in the field."

Kaidan's face scrunched up. "Egg Solutions…pffftt. Remember Therum? Everything tasted like it had dust in it."

"Everthing _did _have dust in it."

They both had a hardy laugh and Claire decided that she like laughing. It had been too long of a time in her life that had been so full of pressure. It wasn't easy having the weight of the galaxy rest upon your shoulders. She'd nearly lost it after Virmire…after Ashley went up in a cloud of radioactive particles, but Kaidan and Liara held her together. As the laughter died away, she picked up a candy cane and twirled the red and white stick in her fingers.

"Sweets for the sweet?" Kaidan asked.

She brushed the tip of the cane on his lips and then puckered hers, sliding the stick into her mouth suggestively. She saw his eyes open wide and how he took a deep breath. She ran her tongue along the sugary treat and then tilted her head down, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Maybe breakfast can wait?"

"Uhhh, duh, yeah. I think so."

Deep down, she loved how she could get him all flabbergasted. The poor guy was still stuttering as he put the tray up on the nightstand and took one final gulp of juice. "C'mere, you mope," she said and grasped the lapel of his robe tightly, tugging him with genetically enhanced strength. He couldn't hope to resist. As she lay back, she could see the snow falling thickly through the frosted windows. She felt the warmth of his body cover hers and her enhanced senses tingled with electricity. She gently pulled on the back of his head and sighed into his ear. "This is going to be a great year, I have a sense for these things, you know."

"You've got great instincts," he said, a bit distracted.

"And one last thing," she murmured, "I love you."


End file.
